It's Out Again
by oXXb00kw0rmXXo
Summary: The past will always come back to bite you. Mimi doesn't regret it, though guilt pounds through her veins. The candle's out, and so is the flame - but she will do anything to make it burn again.


**Hey, this is my first venture into Rent Fanfiction, so I'd love some feedback about how I did! This is an idea that popped into my head and just wouldn't leave... in actuality, I don't think it's too likely, because I doubt that Mimi would be able to keep this from Roger, but eh... It's why it's fanfiction, right? I've only seen the movie/listened to the Browadywa soundtrack, I haven't seen the play, unfortunately. If I'm missing some info, I apologize! I only got into Rent a few months ago. Anyhow, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rent or any of the included lyrics/references to songs**

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"Hey, do you have any of those I could use?" I looked up. The girl was shaking, worse than I had been a few minutes ago. I slowly unwrapped the cloth from around my arm, watching her. She looked at me with pleading eyes. I pocketed my remaining stash even more slowly. I really had no time to be dealing with people begging for my stuff. I had work in fifteen minutes. Usually, I'd ignore them. But with this girl, it was different.

This girl looked like she had once been beautiful. She looked as if the sun had once radiated from her very being and happiness had followed her everywhere. But now her eyes were sunken and her tangled hair was damp with sweat.

I looked at the needle – my only needle at the moment – which I myself had begged off a man a few blocks away the day before.

"Um, this is my only one," I told her hesitantly. Some people – not me, of course – were picky about sharing a needle.

"I don't care," she said breathlessly. "Please. I'll… I'll pay for it!"

Wild ideas flashed through my mind. How much was she willing to give? I could get enough money to get more smack… and maybe some food for the week, too.

"April? April! There you are!" A man with a guitar rounded the corner to join the girl. "Do you have it?"

"Where were you?" she scolded. I stood there, forgotten. "I've been waiting!"

"Mark wouldn't let me leave. I told him I was 'searching for inspiration'." He lifted the guitar as proof. "Sorry."

April sighed. "You know, your best friend puts such a damper on things."

"He cares, that's all," the man excused, but he seemed to be half agreeing. He turned to me. "Oh. Hi."

I got a good look of him, finally. He wasn't once beautiful – he was still so. Yes, his eyes had deep bags and he looked sickly as could be, but behind that I could see love. Love for his friend (who sounded like a damper for sure – keeping him from getting his fix? Seriously, what was he, one of those goody two shoes with cameras?), love for the girl, April, and even love for his music that he was using as an excuse. I wanted that love. I wanted that love for me. And suddenly, I realized that I could feel hope and affection.

It was something I had not felt for many, many months.

His eyes… I could just see it all in his eyes. I believed in his eyes. The burning fire in his heart for his friends was so apparent, though I barely knew him.

"Hi," I responded, and handed him the needle. "There you go. You need it more than me."

"Oh, good, let's go!" April sighed, grabbing the needle and turning on her heel for the alley. The man followed, but he paused and turned back just as I began walking away.

"Hey," he called. I looked up. He smiled at me. "Thanks."

"No problem."

* * *

"What?" I asked slyly, looking at the man I had admired from afar for ages.

"Nothing. Your smile reminded me –"

"I always remind people of – who is she?" I smiled wider, letting the candle flood my face.

"She died," his voice was pained. "Her name was April."

My heart dropped and I froze for barely a second. I blew out the flame and turned my head around, not wanting to face him.

"It's out again!" I said in a panic and added in an attempt to be blasé, "Sorry bout your friend. Would you light my candle?"

He awkwardly walked over and lit the match. I grinned up again, having regained my composure. Could it be that she actually used the needle? Only two months later had I discovered that I had HIV. I had apparently had it then. Perhaps it was my fault that she had died.

I felt absolutely horrible.

She died. Her name was April.

And the flame for his love for anyone, for everyone had gone out.

It was my mission to make it burn again. I would make it burn if it was the last thing I ever did.

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**It pretty much was, I guess... Feedback would be greatly appreciated! I hope you liked it, thanks for reading!**


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